


this feeling, your name.

by anoetic



Series: a softer timeline. [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, Tokio Hotel, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover Pairings, Drabble, M/M, Rare Pairings, Short & Sweet, Tenderness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 00:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15328029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoetic/pseuds/anoetic
Summary: bill doesn't have the words for this, this wild of his heart when he sees him for the first time standing in that ring all brash and bold and god.





	this feeling, your name.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coldsteelrail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldsteelrail/gifts).



> okay i... have so many role play ideas for these two it's i n s u f f e r a b l e.  
> goddess help me and my talent of finding the romance in everything!  
> oh, but can't you feel that? all those scintillating colors and that haze of cigarette smoke and intoxication & bodies & through it all they see each other, two souls that recognize deeply one another...  
> anyway!
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated!

A softer timeline where Bill is invited by one of his friends to a local house show and he has no clue what that is but he’s in when his friend tells him that they’ll pay for drinks. He doesn’t think this night will be anything special, anything he will remember for the rest of his life, won’t be anything good but something tells him to wear his best. He teases that pretty, blonde hair just a bit, slips on those frayed white washed jeans, and, because oddly tonight he feels he needs it, a barely there shimmer of gloss.

He drives alone, promises his friend that he will meet them there. He’s a little nervous noticing the overflow of cars sitting in the parking lot. Whoever is fighting tonight must be pretty popular and for some reason that makes him nervous, too. It’s close to ten o’ clock on a chilly Friday night and he can hear thunderous rows of screams, wild applause and swears all around, flashes of neon blue and pink and red glitter against the windows of the place and his stomach knots, inked fingers picking at the threads of his jeans as he walks through the lot, gravel crunching beneath his shoes.

For some reason he can’t shake that anxiety creeping up his spine and he’s all too ready for a drink when he steps through the entrance doors and down the hallway towards the entertainment, his fingers tapping away a quick message to his friend.

There are so many people here, all of them loud and excited and ripe with booze. The air is heavy, electric and disorienting and Bill wonders bitterly why he came here, his mood souring. He doesn’t even know where the bar is or where his friend is. He's looking towards the exit when he jolts suddenly, startled by a surge of cheers and he turns to see what the commotion is all about and then he sees him.

Sees him dip gracefully underneath the apron, light illuminating every step he takes as he struts around the ring like he fucking owns it, all that hard body and muscle and honey flushed skin and that cocky, golden boy grin that makes Bill’s mouth hang open in awe, enchanted by his every move, breathless and wide eyed.

The guy tears at his hair tie and bundles of long, black hair fall to his shoulders, roll down his back. He shouts something to the audience that Bill can’t quite hear amid all the yelling and sounds of fists pounding against the walls, but it sets the crowd ablaze in celebration, an uproar of chants of his name thudding between Bill’s ears, his heart racing with the feeling of something desperate, something new.

_Roman._

_\--_

Bill driving back home from the house show then, his chest pounding with butterflies the whole time. Opening the door of his apartment and slowly, gently closing it before resting his back against it and shutting his eyes with a sigh that is felt down to his bones, the sound of the crowd shouting his name over and over again. His face, that golden boy grin, that feeling in Bill’s chest that hasn’t gone away since that moment, that feeling that he can’t name.

How Bill whispers his name once just to see how it feels on his lips, how it draws itself up like honey on his tongue, how it sounds beautifully like forever.

_“Roman.”_

How he smiles to himself after he says it, red in the face and fire in the heart.


End file.
